Collected Poems

by Chuck Guilford

Minding the Gaps

Got a big black holein your theory of everything,got places all out of focus, got things unresolvedscrolling up from the bottom off into the margins.

What I mean is — there’s doubt.

There’s doubt about even that big black holeabout whether it’s what you’d call realor merely a metaphorabout whether it matters at all,whether even the godawful effortto figure it out can produce a resultor is just another black holefor throwing your life into —as if there could everbe anything else.